Something Right
by HecateA
Summary: Under Voldemort, the Auror department was not a friendly place for a mudblood's daughter or a werewolf's wife. But Tonks doesn't get mad: she gets even, and happens to be a great smuggler. Written for the House Competition, Round 6 Drabble.


**Author's Note:** There's no way to explain how happy I was that my Actual Child was a prompt. The possibilities were endless, but this idea's been gnawing at me and I'm glad it's finally free!

**Disclaimer:** The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings:** Themes of refuge, asylum-seeking, and people-smuggling for those purposes

* * *

**House:** Hufflepuff

**Role:** Head Girl

**Category:** Round 6, Drabble

**Prompt:** [Character] Nymphadora Tonks

**Word Count:** 948

* * *

**Stacked with:** Hogwarts House Cup; MC4A; Snicket Fence

**Individual Challenge(s):** Hufflepuff MC; Seeds; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; In a Flash

**Representation:** Wizarding War resistance movement

**Bonus challenge(s):** Bee Haven; Second Verse (Odd Feathers, or Pocky Pockets); Chorus (White Dress)

**Tertiary bonus challenge(s):** NA

* * *

**Something Right**

She kept it together far longer than Kingsley expected: making it all the way out of the Head Auror's office, through the zigzag of desks, and down to the change rooms before losing her shit. She even cast muffling _and_ locking charms on the door.

Tonks whipped off her uniform coat and threw it towards her cubby. She angrily peeled off her robes and unfastened the equipment pouch at her hip, the protective dragon-skin pads on her shins and forearms, her gloves… essentially, every single piece of department-issued clothing, until she stood in the boots, leggings, and tank top she wore under her uniform.

The last trace of the Auror Department on her was the badge that hanging around her neck. She paused to look at it—at the department's symbol, embossed in the bronze, at her name, engraved underneath it… before pulling so hard that the chain snapped around her neck.

"This is bullshit! I joined this department to help people, to stop them from getting hurt. And now we've got an actual Death Eater as our boss? They're going to have us pushing paper pointlessly, chasing down Muggle-borns, hunting down Harry, throwing innocents into Azkaban, keeping the path clear for—for You-Know-Who. Absolute bullshit!"

She ran a hand through her hair—watermelon pink, shaved on the side to show off the piercings lining her cartilage—and tilted her hair back.

"I've never seen you mad before…"

"I've never been this mad," she said quietly, shutting her eyes.

"If you leave, they'll hunt you. They'd take you down like a dog," Kingsley said. "And then where will that leave your parents? Remus?"

"Kingsley, you know damned well I'm not going anywhere."

She breathed deeply, hand dropping to her stomach. She opened her eyes. Understanding passed between them.

"Remus knows?" Kingsley asked.

"Don't get me started," Tonks said. "Of all the bloody bad times to bring a child into the world… yes, he knows. It's… unplanned."

"Are you happy?"

"So, so happy. Until I think of the world too much."

* * *

Molly was fussing over Dora, who'd been sent to the porch for fresh air while Remus helped with dishes. Fleur joined her with a cup of tea.

"I heard you were grounded at work because of the baby. I am sorry."

"I'm sorry that the Ministry closed the border," Tonks told her.

"I saw my family just this summer, I am lucky," Fleur said. "It is for the Muggle-borns still in Britain that I feel sorry. They are trapped. The Snatchers will pluck them off one by one."

Something clicked in her head.

"Fleur," said Tonks, heartbeat accelerating. "Fleur, do you know who with magical blood can still cross the border?"

Fleur arched an eyebrow.

"Snatches, Death Eaters… and Aurors," Tonks said.

She hated finding herself in that category. _Hated it._ But she could work with it now.

Understanding dawned on Fleur. "We are going to do something rash?"

"We're going to do something right."

* * *

Kingsley turned around to see Fleur, Bill scrambling behind her.

"I have to tell you something requiring your personal attention before that Security Troll finds me again," Fleur said, clutching a tightly-wound roll of parchment tied with a bubblegum pink ribbon. She handed it over. "You will find here the names of 89 Muggle-borns in need of immediate repatriation, as well as 23 Muggle family members... You will probably want the help of the French Président for Magic in this matter, as they—ah—have been offering sanctuary."

Kingsley had heard a _lot_ in his first 36 hours as Minister. Harry's story alone was enough to drive a man to drink. But…

"Excuse me?"

"A list with 89 Muggleborn names, 23 Muggles," Fleur said. "You see, once Tonks and I got our hands on the Book of Admittance and tracked down the Muggle-born children listed there, we began transporting them in addition to tapping the networks of underground Muggle-borns Tonks contacted. Some of those in the Paris safe houses were ready to take care of them, but when the families could come, that was of course _l'idéale_."

At their expressions, she turned to Bill. "Am I not being clear?"

"Again: how did I not know about this?" he said.

"You would only have worried," Fleur said, throwing her hair back.

"Fleur… run that by me again," Kingsley asked.

"Dora was technically an Auror. A bad one, joining an insurgent group so early in her career and so on, but an Auror nonetheless," Fleur said. "Which meant…"

"That she could cross the border," Bill suddenly said.

"Yes," Fleur nodded. "And I had my connections in Paris to secure safehouses, and some transferable skills from Gringotts to forge papers."

"For 89 Muggle-borns?"

"And 23 Muggles, yes. I have included the key to the code to translate our list. You will see names cross-referenced with hometowns, code names, given identity, the exit route used…."

"How…?" Kinglsey asked.

"Details are details. Please: get them back, Tonks would want that... She was going crazy," Fleur said. "Pushing paper, trapped in the Auror department. With the way they treated Remus, her father's death…"

"She was _pregnant_," Kingsley choked.

"If anything, pretending to go into labour was quite useful to distract Snatchers."

Fleur reached into her purse, retrieving a photo of herself and Tonks, baby bump obvious, sitting in a café at the Champs Élysée. They were toasting something, smiling at each other and then the camera, with a plate of pastries on the table between them.

"She had always wanted to go to Paris," Fleur said quietly. "I am glad she got to see the city so many times, doing what she loved."

"Helping people," Kingsley said quietly, carefully taking the photograph.


End file.
